


Movie Night

by QuietlyImplode



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Movie Night, Post-Mission, Protective Laura Barton, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: Natasha comes home after a mission gone awry. Clint doesn't cope well, but Laura knows just what to do.----@aurorashard asked for something for clint/nat/laura with a movie night or a vacation - i started on the vacation, got 100 words in and then backtracked and then it was .. this..Thank you for the prompt!
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraShard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraShard/gifts).



“Sit.”

“No.”

“Natasha,” comes a softer voice, “sit down.”

Natasha looks forlorn. She doesn’t want to say no to Laura, but she can’t. Can’t sit. Can’t stop. 

She feels trapped. She shouldn’t feel trapped here, in this place of tranquility, the only place that’s felt like home or homely at least. 

She eyes the door.

She could just go.. She only came here because she needed help, but maybe she doesn’t. 

“No.” Clint is pissed. Natasha is bleeding on his floor. She made it here, and now she’s eyeing the fucking door. “You do not get to leave,” he says gruffly. He moves one step closer and she takes one step back. It’s like dancing with cat. 

“Sit.” He tries again, trying to lessen the pissed off-work with me here-frustrated tone that he know is coming across. 

It doesn’t work.

Natasha doesn’t move and looks more skittish than ever.

“Tasha,” Laura tries. 

Natasha looks sharply over to where Laura is sitting at the kitchen table. 

Frowns.

“Come with me.”

Laura holds her hand out and waits. 

Waits for Natasha to trust that nothing’s going to happen here.

Waits for her to drop her guard.

Waits for her to remember where she is.

It takes time and no body moves but, finally, Natasha reaches out and hooks her fingers into Laura’s. 

“Ok.”

Laura leads her to the downstairs bathroom. Turns the shower on, kneels and takes off Natasha’s shoes and socks.

She climbs inside once it’s warm, leading Natasha with her. The water turns red immediately and she sees Natasha’s eyes follow the trail down to the drain. Slowly, carefully she catches Natasha’s eye and holds her hands up; mimes taking her jacket off. 

The dip of Natasha’s head, Laura takes as consent. She pulls the cuffs down, and slips one arm off and then over her shoulders and then off the other. She sucks in a breath when she sees the burn mark that’s on Natasha’s shoulder. Is more concerned than ever, that there’s no response to water pounding into it.

Laura cups Natasha’s face gently, brushing away some of the dirt that’s there. 

“Explosion?” She questions. 

She doesn’t get anything back, but Natasha does make fleeting eye contact again. This time Laura mimes pants. Natasha fumbles with the button, clumsiness so unlike her makes Laura’s heartstrings pull. 

Chest hurting; she helps, covering Natasha’s bruised knuckles with her hands and helps push the button through and the zip down. She holds onto Natasha’s arms and puts them on her shoulders and helps her take off the pants, which is harder than it looks now that everything is wet. 

They get there though.

Slowly.

Laura closes her eyes. The gash that pulls across Natasha’s thigh and down her leg speaks to the blood that’s still dripping down her leg and down the drain.

“Oh Nat.” She huffs out.

Whatever adrenaline was left from getting here is slowly fading. Natasha is down to a t-shirt and her underwear, and her eyes are closing and bursting open in intervals. Laura can see the war in her mind.

“Almost there,” she assures, linking fingers again and leading her out. She leans Natasha up against the wall. 

“Unless you want to sit?” She offers.

Shaking her head, Natasha pulls her t-shirt off, winces and grabs the towel offered. 

Clint’s placed towels in the room, pyjamas as well. Laura smiles, thankful that he just knows. 

“Little bit longer.” She soothes.

Laura gets a med kit from under the sink. One of many stashed around the house. Pulls the syringe, pain killers, dressings for burns, the glue and steri-strips for her leg. Prepping a syringe of pain killers, Laura holds it up; the question implied. 

Natasha neither consents or rejects it. Laura drops it into her hand. 

“For when it’s too much.” She iterates; and then gets to work on patching her up.  
.  
They emerge to the smell of soup and warming bread which Clint has reheated. He places it on the side table and smiles sadly, knowing it won’t be eaten but hopes that it adds to a calming environment.

“Time for a movie?” He asks quietly. 

Movie night after a bad mission started way back in the shield days when he had a room in shield and Natasha had a cell. Sometimes the movie would be something they'd watched previously (comforting), sometimes new releases and sometimes just something to pass the time - a compromise as to the genre. 

He puts on 101 Dalmatians; knowing it’s one of Natasha’s favourites. It works to draw her in, makes her sit on the edge of the couch to watch the dogs parade. Laura squeezes Clint's hand behind Natasha’s back. 

They don’t touch her but sit close enough so she feels protected. Safe.  
.  
Around the time of the midnight bark, Natasha is leaning 100% on Clint with her toes tucked in under Laura’s legs. Her eyes are closed; and her breathing is measured. Clint’s not sure if she’s asleep, but doesn’t dwell on it; just glad that she’s relaxed and at least knows that she feels safe. 

Whatever Laura did it said in the bathroom helped. He’s so so thankful for the women in his life, that they are so in tune with each other and can speak without words. They’d be one hell of a team if they ever really teamed up. Better to be working with him, than against him, he muses. He takes another look at them; and then closes his eyes, satisfied at their safety. 

By the time the credits are rolling they’re all asleep.  
.


End file.
